Ten days, five health camps, and 10 or so borewells later, I am left now to sort, relive, and process all that has just taken place..
There is one event that particularly stands out for me and it is during our final medical camp in the slums of Tuni. This was a very busy camp. Very active and buzzing. I was placed in an area adjacent to the doctors, and people started lining up for prayer. I would place my hands on them and just pray. Whatever they were suffering from I would pray for, and oftentimes more. After about 200 people, I saw a woman in an orange sari. She was maybe 65 or so, and was shouting in Telugu “I believe, I believe!”. I thought, wow, ok, that’s awesome, and went on praying for the person in front of me, when she burst through the line and threw herself into my arms. So forcefully that I went back , steadied myself and just held on as she sobbed. I’m not talking little cries here. I am talking about full on body shaking uncontrollable sobbing. So I just started to pray. I prayed that she would know how much God loved her. To let her know He has not forgotten her. That He sees her. He hears her. I prayed as I held her that she would feel Him holding her. That as I prayed she would hear Him speaking to her in her native tongue. That she would know that all this… All this was just for her. He loves her that much. So much more.
Someone moved her along as there were still another 200 people in line and I thought “no, please, no. She needs more time” but then she was gone.
After the line was gone and I was told to take a break, I went to find her. She was standing next in line for Dr Sowmya when she saw me and again, burst into my arms sobbing. I took her and walked her over to a bench where we sat together. My arms around her and her head resting on my chest. I prayed and prayed and felt her take a breath and calm down. I started singing to her three songs. “He Loves Us”, “Forever Reign”, and of course, Whitney’s version of “Jesus Loves Me”. Over and over and over for at least 30 minutes. Tears steadily streaming down her face but the convulsive sobs were gone. Nobody came to interrupt. That is the miracle of it. One of them anyway. When we were done, she was completely calm. Rearranged. Smiling, laughing, and what can only be described as “well loved by the Father”.
So my question remains. What did she see when she saw me? Certainly I did not evoke that sort of reaction. I can only believe that she saw Jesus in me. I pray that’s what she saw. I pray that’s what she felt. I pray that’s all she sees when she thinks back on that time. That she cannot even recall my face, but only His love! That He sang to her. That He held her as long as she needed. That He is faithful. That He loves her as much as He loves any of us. No more, no less.
I can only imagine that when we see Him face to face, we will bust through the crowd and throw ourselves into His loving arms shouting, “I believe! I believe!!”.