Sojourn Stories Of Suffering: Sickness, Death, False Accusations and Hope In Christ

March 25, 2013 in Sojourn with 0 Comments

Stories of Suffering

During this season of Lent, we’ve journeyed together through the Book of Job. It’s a story of suffering, faith, questions, and one man who cries out to God in the midst of heartbreaking affliction.

I’ve shared stories of “suffering well” with you, from Sojourners at each of our campuses and from brothers and sisters that have come to know Christ through Sojourn International, our missions ministry.

I’ll share a few more with you in this week before Easter, known as Holy Week in the Christian Calendar. As we reflect on these stories of suffering, let’s also remember our Lord, the Savior who suffered in our place. Remember that we are healed and given an eternal inheritance by the scourge marks on his back and the nail prints in his hands. Here is a testimony from a Sojourn East member:

Over the last five years, these have been my milestones:

-Losing my job in Colorado when the company I worked for closed after a fatal accident took place.

-Moving my family to New York, entering the Army National Guard as a combat medic and spending six months in training away from my wife. We saw each other for four non-consecutive days during the first half of 2008.

-Two weeks after returning home from training I was indicted on multiple felonies in Colorado in relation to the fatal accident, and was named in a 32 million dollar lawsuit (despite being ridiculously innocent of any wrong-doing). The details surrounding this are complex, but – in brief – despite being unemployed and nearly bankrupt the Lord worked in my favor to help me acquire a $1500/hr legal defense team, which included the Denver Broncos’ corporate attorney. I’m nobody and I have nothing but the Lord rescued me from wrongful criminal accusations in a powerful way.

-This period in time led to a season of immense repentance in my life and marriage. Many deeply rooted sins in my heart and my wife’s heart were confessed to each other and forgiven. I decided to pursue seminary rather than medical school. We recognized that all of our reasons for waiting to have children were sinful, based on doubting the Lord’s provision for us. So my wife became pregnant with our first child shortly thereafter. It took felony charges to awaken me from my spiritual stupor and sinful selfishness.

-At the same time, our church in New York went through a schism over a doctrinal disagreement amongst the elders. Many of our friends left the church, effectively ending contact with us as well. Our efforts to keep in touch with them were futile. We lost many people whom we thought were our good friends.

-A couple months later I got a phone call from my mother while I was at work (for my dad’s small business), asking me to come check on my father who wasn’t feeling well. My lawyer called while I was driving to my parents’ home and told me that all the criminal charges against me had been dismissed “with prejudice” (meaning the lawsuit can’t be brought against me again)!

I arrived at my parents’ house to share the good news with them, but recognized that my father was having a stroke. I carried him down the stairs of the house where I had grown up and into an ambulance which would take him to the hospital. He died there, just days later – Dec 19, 2008.

-I was the only one with my father through his last conscious moments, praying with him and reading Scripture to him and holding his hand as we walked together through his death. He was a believer and I was overwhelmed by gratefulness before grief, and I spent the last moments with him thanking him (and the Lord) for being my father, rather than saying goodbye.

-Since I worked for my dad at the time, I quit taking a paycheck so my mom could have the money while I shut down my father’s business; the only job I could find after that was pressure washing out garbage trucks and street sweepers to barely make ends meet for my family.

-Our first daughter was born a couple months later. We named her “Abigail,” which means “a father’s joy,” because the news of her conception and her birth were some of the only purely joyful moments in 2008-2009. We viewed my wife’s pregnancy and Abby’s birth as signs of the Lord’s favor in the midst of deeply trying circumstances. (It’s really hard not to spoil her now as she gets older!)

-Then we moved to Louisville so I could attend seminary; I worked 40-70 hours a week for an ambulance company while going to school full time for the first year in order to pay our bills. I couldn’t sleep much, I didn’t eat well, I didn’t exercise at all, I saw a lot of death and suffering, and I was away from my family nearly all the time. It took a toll on us.

-Before the end of the first semester I found out that I would be deploying to Iraq, so I would have to be away from my family for an extended time again and my education would need to be put on hold.

-My wife suffered a miscarriage shortly thereafter. It was heartbreaking.

-A few months later, she gave birth to our second daughter alone (on Father’s day) while I was deployed, then the baby was rushed to intensive care immediately for respiratory issues, and I came home on emergency leave to support my family and see my little girl covered in tubes and wires. We were not able to hold or touch her for days. I was home for six days then had to return to the deployment, though she came home on the seventh day (Hallelujah!), so I didn’t even get to see her meet her sister for the first time. Then I missed the first six months of her life while I was in Iraq.

-Last fall, my son was born and taken to intensive care as well, with a rare viral meningitis. We spent a week in the hospital watching over and praying for him before bringing him home as well.

Throughout all of these circumstances, I was not as faithful as Job. I sinned with my mouth. There was an extended period of time, particularly after my father’s death, in which I was very angry with God about the circumstances of my life.

Just as with Job, the devil bets that he can make us curse God. “I bet I can make them hate you. I bet they don’t love you like they say. I bet I can make them curse you.”

For a time, I believed God to be sovereign, but not good. In 2010, through counseling with pastors in our local church and through some of my required reading at seminary I was led to earnest repentance of this sin and was freed from anger directed toward God. I firmly believe that He has done all things well – even in my worst experiences – and “I have set my face like flint and I know that I shall not be put to shame” (Is 50:7) by sinning against God again in this way. By his grace, anger is not a life-dominating sin for me any longer, and he kept me faithful throughout the trials of miscarriage, combat deployment,and the illnesses of my newborn children (among others).

Throughout this suffering the compelling story of the cross of Christ has been driven home to me and my family in unshakable ways. I realized that the ugliness of my sins of anger were things which Christ took on himself. He absorbed my anger and the punishment my anger deserved, and has only ever responded to me with the severest mercy. So my sins of anger killed him – there’s a real sense in which anger kills.

But then he rises again to new life — and in the power of the Spirit which raised Christ to new life, I can live a new life as well. I’m not only free from the guilt and the shame associated with my past sins of anger, but I am free to respond in the future like my Savior has responded to me. When I perceive an offense to me and I would normally become angry, I can absorb that offense just as he absorbed the offense of my anger, and I can respond with mercy to others, just as he has responded with mercy to me.

So in the cross and the resurrection of Christ I find the pardon for my anger and the power to overcome my anger. “My sin, O the bliss of this glorious thought, my sin, not in part, but the whole, is nailed to the cross and I bear it no more, Praise the Lord, Praise the Lord, O my soul!”

More than anything else, what I have learned through these trials can be summarized in 2 Cor 4:17-18,

“For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.”

 

Sojourner Stories of Suffering: From Divorce And Despair To Healing And Hope

March 20, 2013 in Sojourn with 0 Comments

Stories of Suffering

During this season of Lent, we’re journeying together through the Book of Job. It’s a story of suffering, faith, questions, and one man who cries out to God in the midst of heartbreaking affliction.

Over the last few weeks I’ve shared stories of “suffering well” with you, from Sojourners at each of our campuses and from brothers and sisters that have come to know Christ through Sojourn International, our missions ministry. Here is a testimony from Brad Walker of Sojourn Midtown:

This is my story of a trial I never expected and wasn’t sure I would make  it through. Yet God, in His grace, saw me through every minute of every day.

I was in my early 20′s and excited about life. I was graduating from Boyce College (at SBTS) and getting married in the next few months. We belonged to a great church and our pastor was a trusted friend and mentor. It was an honor to be the first wedding he performed.

As we moved through our premarital counseling, we discussed that both of us came from divorced families. We made a covenant then and there to never put ourselves, children, and families through such pain.

Two years went by. We bought a house, got a dog, and were making great money for two kids in their twenties (about $75k). On top of that, I was serving as a bi-vocational youth pastor in the church where we were married. But with all of that, neither of us seemed to be satisfied. We bought car after car, changed jobs annually, and things seemed tense at home despite the happily married couple mask we wore everywhere else.

I took a full-time youth pastor position in the Atlanta area, and I thought we had “arrived.” I was finally doing what God had laid on my heart for seven years leading up to this point. But the unhappiness continued, even after our daughter was born. Conflict emerged in the church between us and another couple which resulted in them leaving for another congregation.

I began feeling a draw to be a lead pastor/church planter. With this in mind and my wife physically home sick, we decided to move back to Louisville to be with her family and for me to work toward my Masters of Divinity at SBTS. Little did I know, that this entire time she was planning with her family to file for divorce. It all came to a head one morning and she asked me to leave the house, and unknown to me, she filed papers with the courthouse the next day. Our daughter was nine months old.

My world came undone. I dropped out of school, stayed with a seminary professor for two days, then a hotel for two days, and was eventually admitted into the hospital for malnutrition and dehydration. Everything I worked for had been ripped from my hands. My ministry hopes: gone. My wife: gone. My daughter: inaccessible. My bed: now a lonely twin.

By the grace of God and some faithful Christian brothers, my wounds slowly healed. There were days I was unable to formulate a decent thought. I cried hysterically to the point of almost passing out. A church I had attended once stepped in. They allowed me to be a part of their lives, their families. I am eternally indebted to the men who would leave their jobs in the middle of the day, just so I could embrace them and sob in their living room – no words being said.

All the while I was having horrific nightmares. I couldn’t close my eyes without envisioning my wife in bed with faceless men. It tortured me day and night. Sleepless days became more days, and eventually weeks at a time without sleep. My body and soul were suffering.

But through family (blood and spirit), the sacrifice of many to serve me, the hope preached to me from the Scriptures, and the faithful prayers of brothers and sisters around the world, I had an amazing realization.

My divorce does not define me. My past does not define me. My struggles do not define. My Savior Jesus Christ defines me.

It was in that moment that healing began. True healing.

Since this season, now five years ago, God has truly changed me. Where I was once anxious, I am now restful. Where I was once angry, I can now forgive. What I once felt was lost, is now nothing compared to living with Jesus.

I still struggle. But grace endures.

God has blessed my relationship with my daughter more than I could have imagined, and shown me grace by sending me my beautiful wife. We eagerly await our son to be born in June.

My encouragement to those in a time of trial, suffering, and pain – God is bigger than this. He repairs the broken and draws near to the downcast. Trust His word and allow his people — your family — to suffer with you.

“Thy mercy, my God, is the theme of my song,
The joy of my heart and the boast of my tongue;
Thy free grace alone, from the first to the last,
Hath won my affections, and bound my soul fast.

Without Thy sweet mercy I could not live here;
Sin would reduce me to utter despair;
But, through thy free goodness, my spirits revive,
And He that first made me still keeps me alive!”

 

Sojourner Stories Of Suffering: Assault, Cancer and God’s Sweet Providence

March 18, 2013 in Sojourn with 3 Comments

Stories of Suffering

During this season of Lent, we’re journeying together through the Book of Job. It’s a story of suffering, faith, questions, and one man who cries out to God in the midst of heartbreaking affliction.

Over the last few weeks I’ve shared stories of “suffering well” with you, from Sojourners at each of our campuses and from brothers and sisters that have come to know Christ through Sojourn International, our missions ministry. Here is a testimony from a Sojourn Midtown campus member:

I serve with SojournKids on Sundays by teaching and watching over Avy and Ever Stettler. Avy was diagnosed with Leukemia and underwent chemotherapy. He is now at the end of his treatment and in remission. Chemotherapy kills an individual’s immune system, sometimes to the point of needing to be quarantined. Avy does have a weakened immune system, but fortunately not to this extreme.

Because of his progress in recovery and Sojourn’s Special Needs Program, the Stettlers were able to return to church again in November, which is where I come in. Because of Avy’s weakened immune system, his risk of becoming sick is much higher than the average child’s. The effects of illness are also much more extreme for Avy should he ever become sick, so I (and another servant) teach the Stettlers and watch over them each Sunday in a separate room from the other children. We will continue to watch over them until the beginning of May when, God willing, Avy’s immune system will be restored to its normal strength and he can be around his peers again.

I feel a deep connection to Avy and what his family has been through with his illness, as I also had cancer. When I was 13 years old, I was sexually assaulted by my music teacher. I found out two years later that, because of the assault, I had HPV. The strain of HPV I was given is considered one of “the killers”, and is now completely preventable through vaccination. Because the HPV went undiagnosed for so long (there are no symptoms), I developed Cervical and Ovarian cancer.

Words cannot explain how it feels to find out you have cancer. It is incomprehensible, a parent’s worst nightmare for their child, and a fate I believed to be worse than death once I was in the full swing of treatment. I was not a Christian, nor did I have believers in my life when I found out the news. I underwent several years of chemotherapy, radiation, and an additional year’s worth of experimental treatment in France. The United States has policies against several life-saving experimental treatments for cancer patients, and my Dad wasn’t ready to let me go, as my doctors in Kentucky told my family was inevitable.

I lived in a hospital in France alone for a year. My parents were not able to move with me because they had to work to pay for the medical bills. When you seek treatment outside of the US it is completely elective and comes out of your own pocket.

France kept me alive but barely hanging on. My life really started to change when I moved back to the US so I could pass away, surrounded by my family. It was expected that I had only a few months left. A volunteer at the hospital, Alan, began visiting with me every day. He got to know me and started asking me questions about my faith and what I “believed in.”

I told him I believed in random occurrences and spontaneous events and that the world was an evil place and that no God would do this to someone he loved.

I told him I was an atheist.

I told him I would rather die than live in this pain and put my family through this.

He began sharing the gospel with me. He taught me about Jesus and the perfect life he lived, only to be beaten, nailed to a cross, and killed so that I, too, may live. The fog and anger that once consumed my thoughts on what I was going through was soon replaced by relief and understanding. I slowly realized that I deserved much worse than what I was going through, and that there was something so much greater than anything this life could offer, waiting for me when it was all over.

The feeling that I was fighting for my life made me realize that it wasn’t me, but it was God. He was with me even when I didn’t know Him. I now realize more than ever that had I not been assaulted, diagnosed with cancer, and brought within an inch of my life, I would not know Christ. But I thank the Lord every day that Christ knew me then and was fighting for me, my heart, and my salvation.

As you can see, I’m still here today. Before giving up, as I so wanted to do, I promised my father I would take one last surgery when I was 19. The doctors told me that there was 99% chance I wouldn’t make it out of the OR but I did. I came out 5 hours later to a room full of smiling and tearful faces.

It was nothing short of a miracle. I went into remission, and it has been a long and painful process. To this day I go to the doctor every 2 weeks so tests can be run, and I am down one ovary. But I am more full of hope and faith now than I was when things were fine, and there was nothing to complain about in my life. God truly works in mysterious ways, and although life is harder now that I have to live instead of prepare to die, I know He is always with me and always has been.

Every second is a gift, and I can only hope and pray that I don’t waste it or take it for granted. This brings me back to Sojourn and the Stettlers. I began attending Sojourn in September of 2011 with a new friend, Kasey Miller, who has since moved to Detroit. My faith was a private thing until my first visit. I was scared of church, scared of judgment, and scared I would actually have to share my story with others.

She told me I was wrong, she told me that Christians are accepting and that I should try living in community. Not just living in the community of St. Matthews, like I currently do, but living out the gospel in Christian community with my brothers and sisters.

It sounded like a cult, but I thought I would try it out.

From the very first sermon, I was hooked. I didn’t feel judged because Pastor Daniel admitted he was struggling with the very things he was preaching about as well. Strangers shook my hand, and seemed to genuinely love me even though they knew nothing about me. I couldn’t help but think that this is how Church was meant to be.

My boyfriend moved back from Colorado and started attending with me, and we decided to take the next step: join a Community Group. We went on a walk to Waterfront Park with my dog one warm evening, when a Mexican man came running towards us asking if he could pet my dog. I thought I recognized him and asked if he attended Sojourn, and he did – his name was Leandro.

We began chatting and got on the topic of Charlie Ray, and me wanting to join a Community Group. He invited us to come meet his Community Group as they were at the park with him for a multiplication celebration. That’s when we met Blake and Haley Nail and they invited us to visit their group the next week. We did, and we have been members of that Community Group ever since.

After getting plugged into the Community Group, we decided it was time to take the next step and become members of Sojourn. At my membership interview with Pastor Chad, I remember sharing pieces of my story and then explaining my desire to serve the church more faithfully.

The next week, we went to brunch after church with our Community Group and Haley told me that Sojourn Kids looking for a couple members to watch a little boy who had Leukemia, but was in remission. This was the answer to my prayers regarding getting plugged into service at Church.

For the rest of my life, I will never forget the first morning I met Avy Stettler. He lifted up his shirt, pointed at his chest and said “Look, this is where my chemo port was. This is where Jesus healed me!” with the biggest grin on his face. I have learned so much from Avy and his spirit, about what he has been through. He has, and I’m not even kidding, made me less reserved and ashamed of what I went through…and he is 4 years old (but going on 5 soon, he would want me to say that).

He loves the Bible and he reallllyyyyyy loves King David. We were teaching one Sunday about how David was anointed with oil on his head, so Avy came in a few weeks later to a completely separate activity that involved oil and asked if we were going to anoint him (he is so smart!). Another favorite story of mine is when we were about to pray one morning before the lesson began, and he asked if he could pray. He prayed for his teachers.

He makes my heart so happy and I find myself praying that my heart could reflect a childlike spirit of warmth and understanding and trust in God, like Avy’s. I also pray that Avy’s heart remain the same in that regard as he grows up.

A few weeks ago, I finally mustered the courage to tell my story to Avy’s parents.  They were aware that I had been through cancer, but that was the extent of what I had shared. When I finally explained the whole story, I felt a connection with them that I had not felt before. I have learned over my short time as a Christian that we have to share with one another to really know and care for one another.

Paige, Avy’s mother, and I shared our common desires and fears surrounding getting more involved in the cancer community in Louisville, how we would both probably be great advocates and supporters for those facing cancer. We realized our fears were somewhat related. For her, it was facing parents that are losing children while hers is still here, and for me it is watching people pass away from something I survived, and the guilt I would feel and have felt as a result.

We both shared a nervous chuckle as we realized that Sojourn would be digging into the book of Job and how hard it would be for us. Job has always been a book that I have avoided (you would think by now that I would suffer well, but I still do not). We plan on meeting for coffee and digging deeper into our fears and desires that have been brought about due to the impact cancer has had on our lives.

I know this was pretty long, but in sharing my story with others over the past year I have learned that there is no easy or short way to tell it. But, I do think it paints a great picture of God’s work in my life, and how the Special Needs Program for Sojourn Kids has a way of bringing people together and changing lives in ways that are so unexpected, in ways I don’t even deserve.

Every day I am amazed by God’s grace in my life. Just when I think it can’t get much better, or in my pessimistic hours when I think this is all life has to offer, God reveals himself in ways I could have never imagined.

I thought I would just be walking into Sojourn every Sunday morning to read the Bible to some kids, and make sure they were safe for the 90 minutes or so that their parents were in the service. In my wildest dreams, and in my best prayers, I would have never been able to hope for what God has provided in my time with this program and the Stettlers every Sunday morning.

Sojourner Stories Of Suffering: Grace To Say Goodbye To A Brother Dying Young

March 13, 2013 in Sojourn with 0 Comments

Stories of Suffering

During this season of Lent, we’re journeying together through the Book of Job. It’s a story of suffering, faith, questions, and one man who cries out to God in the midst of heartbreaking affliction.

Over the last few weeks I’ve shared stories of “suffering well” with you, from Sojourners at each of our campuses and from brothers and sisters that have come to know Christ through Sojourn International, our missions ministry. Here is a testimony from Sojourn East campus member Macy English:

In times of suffering you flee from what brings pain and run to what brings comfort. Suffering, in a way, shows us the core of who we are, where our hope is and where we find security.

Wednesday, February 27th, marked the 1-year anniversary of my brother, Samuel Ray Sinclair, being diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (ALL). I remember exactly where I was when I received the news. My heart sank and my thoughts immediately went to how I could best love and support my brother in this moment. I quickly called him and tried to be the supporting and loving sister that I know he needed, wishing I could be next to him in Houston. Wishing I could be present. I remember affirming him in our shared hoped in the Lord and that God would only bring this upon Sam to lead others to come to know him. Sam agreed, as tears streamed down his face in fear of the unknown. Little did I know how much God would do in the next 72 hours in order to bring glory to His name.

Sam was quickly rushed to M.D. Anderson in Houston, where they started on chemotherapy and a multitude of tests to determine the best treatment plan. It wasn’t long after, that literally hundreds of people started to arrive at the hospital. Sam was one of the most well connected people. His passion for relationships and loving on people is far more than I can ever or will ever know. They were there to be present with him during this time of suffering. I remember calling him again the next day and laughter and joy were in his speech. He was loved on so much by his friends and my parents who were constantly there with him.

Friday morning, March 1st, Sam complained of a severe headache and was quickly rushed to receive a CAT scan of his brain. Shortly thereafter he slipped into a coma, induced by a brain bleed. Mom and dad rushed to the hospital and soon called with the news.

I was stricken with fear of the unknown. “This can’t be happening”, I thought to myself. Immediately, I pleaded with the Lord to work a miracle. Not knowing any specifics or what was going to happen, my husband, JT, and I hit our knees in prayer. We got on the first plane out of Louisville. My other brothers, Chris and Charlie, also got on the first plane to Houston from their respective cities.

The entire way traveling to Houston I couldn’t stop listening to piano hymns while reading Psalms. I started with the first chapter and just read and read and read. I knew nothing could bring more clarity or comfort.

After arriving to the hospital, we quickly realized that Sam’s condition was irreversible. He was going to die. We gathered around his bed, sang hymns, shared memories, talked to him, wept in anguish and prayed. I’ve never experienced such utter pain in my life. It didn’t even feel real. I held his warm, strong hand and pleaded with him to get up. We all did.

At 11:10pm on Friday, March 1st, 2012, my brother Samuel Ray Sinclair, age 31, passed away. The Lord had kept Sam stable just long enough for us all to be together as a family and have a few hours together. Oh, how sweet the Lord is. Even in those moments of gut-wrenching pain, I could see God’s grace.

It was gracious for Him to give us time together as a family. It was gracious for Him to allow my parents to be with him the last 48 hours of his life. It was gracious of Him to surround Sam with hundreds of friends. It was gracious of Him to save my brother from his sins!

As we left the hospital that night and in the days after, I remember repeating to myself over and over, “God is in control. God is in control. He is our only hope.” I just couldn’t wrap my mind around what was happening or going on, but that is the truth I had to cling to. I remember asking my closets friends, “Please pray for joy among the saints as we rejoice at the grace of God in my brothers life. May God grant us peace and grace to face the days ahead.”

This was and is my hope: Christ has died. Christ has risen. Christ will come again.

Christ will one day return and he will speak the same words we spoke, “Sam, get up!” and Sam will rise! Oh, that I will be able to see him again!

The suffering of losing my brother has reminded me of my depravity and the certainty of sin’s curse – death. I hate death. I hate the pain and despair it brings. But for me, it does not stop there. I know where I place my hope and in whom I am secure. Christ will come again and restore all things and that is the day that I long for. But until then, I press on and run the race God has laid before me. That I might make much of Him and glorify Him in all that I do so that others may come to know Him.

This past year has been one of much heartache and joy. I never knew how much I’d need my husband, our church, our friends, and our family. They have surrounded me, poured love out on me, been present with me, and prayed for me. Suffering really is meant to be shared among community. They have prayed for the peace of God which surpasses all understanding to guard my heart in Christ. It has.

The pain is not gone and at times, Sam’s death doesn’t feel real. But the one thing I know is real is my constant comfort and hope.

Christ has died. Christ has risen. Christ will come again.

“What was lost, God will restore.” – John Piper

 

Sojourner Stories Of Suffering: Abandoned By Society, Loved By Jesus

March 11, 2013 in Sojourn with 0 Comments

Stories of Suffering

During this season of Lent, we’re journeying together through the Book of Job. It’s a story of suffering, faith, questions, and one man who cries out to God in the midst of heartbreaking affliction.

Over the last few weeks I’ve shared stories of “suffering well” with you, from Sojourners at each of our campuses and from brothers and sisters that have come to know Christ through Sojourn International, our missions ministry. Here is another international story, as written by one of our missionaries in the field (I can’t tell you his name because it would put him in danger. For the same reason, we can’t use the real name of the woman from this testimony, but we’ll call her “Mary”):

Mary* was born deep in the countryside of one of the poorest nations in the world.  As a girl she learned from the time she could walk how to fetch water, cook, and farm until there were deep callouses on her little hands.  She was taught that life for a woman meant two things: commitment to the local religion and bearing children.  Before she was old enough to think otherwise she was tattooed on the face with religious symbols and promised in marriage to a man she didn’t know.

She began that marriage barely a teenager and became pregnant soon afterward.  For reasons only known to him Mary’s husband then decided to leave her.  She was ashamed as rumors flew.  Eventually the entire village turned against her, leaving her alone in a communal society.  Her only refuge was a friend’s family that tolerated her until she gave birth to a tiny baby girl.

Malnourished without medical care, Mary and her baby became very sick.  They fled the countryside for a nearby city. Knowing no one, they ended up on the streets.  Mary was on the brink of leaving her baby on the stoop of an orphanage and running away.  She had stopped producing milk and the baby was days from death.

By God’s grace, however, someone directed her to a local Christian shelter for women and children.  There, Mary and her baby were nursed back to health and given temporary housing.  That’s when she began working as a cook for one of our Sojourn partners living in the city.  She labored diligently and quickly became a beloved member of the household, but evidence of her suffering was written all over her somber face.  She avoided eye contact with most everyone, especially men, and never laughed or smiled.  She only responded to conversation with hushed one-word answers.

She expected it wouldn’t be long until she was hated and ridiculed like usual, and at best she hoped to just be ignored.  These deeply rooted troubles only relented when Mary encountered the good news about Jesus.

At first it was hard for her to believe in such a man since almost all men she’d ever known were harsh and abusive.  But the grace Jesus offered was irresistible and she gave in to trusting him.  Slowly Mary began to smile and converse.  She even laughed with close friends.  She really began to grow.  Then one day as she was cooking in her one-room home, her baby girl, now a toddler, fell into the fire and was burned severely.

This rocked Mary’s world.

She was terrified for her daughter, angry at herself for being neglectful, and faced with the bitter question of God’s goodness—why would he allow this to happen?!  But as the baby healed up, so did Mary.

“She is not my child,” Mary shared.  “She belongs to God and I trust him with a whole heart.”  This experience shaped Mary more than any moment in her life.  Despite the danger of persecution on her and her daughter, she now plants and disciples groups of women in the way of Christ.

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