Today, a guest post from Jackie, my elder daughter, who is in Camden Town with World Harvest Mission doing a summer internship. I’ve put abbreviations for the real names — probably a good idea, as you’ll see from the story.
“Story time. During Sonship week, we had prayer in small groups after dinner and then we’d go over to Jl’s flat to hang out. Since it stays light here till after 10, we sometimes just sat around outside in the back for a while. We ended up meeting these elementary-school age girls who live in the same complex, so a lot of nights they would see us out there and ask us to play “it” (tag) or frisbee or something. So much fun…So, one of the girls, Fi (10 yrs old), and I were sitting one night, and somehow it was brought up that she’s Muslim, and I asked her a little about it (like did she have to wear a head covering) and she told me “I’m a different kind of Muslim, I’m Kosovan.” I don’t know much about that but I know there was some kind of genocide in Kosovo and that’s probably why her parents moved to London. I asked her some more questions because it was really interesting but eventually the subject died.
Anyways, that’s the background info.
So, a few nights ago, my prayer group decided to walk to Jl’s and pray in the green behind the building. I think the girls (F and her sister, E, 7, and their friends P and M, who i think are 7 and 10) started to expect us so the moment we sat down, out they come. We told them that we would be able to play but not for a few minutes because we were gonna talk and pray a little bit. F goes, “P can pray she’s Christian!” and we told her if she wanted to she could, and then of course E (F’s sister) wants to sit down too, and M. We told them they were all welcome to listen if they wanted, and after hesitating for a sec F sat down too, saying, I’m sure it’s okay if I just LISTEN I mean i’m not actually PRAYING. We were a little worried because we didn’t want to start any tension with F and E’s parents, but even when we made it clear there was no pressure, they still really wanted to listen. So J, L and I all prayed like we normally would and the girls just listened.
After we finished, they asked some things like about calling God “Father” and how to pray, and then they all wanted to do it! It was the cutest thing. So we went around in a circle again. F was the first of the little girls to pray, and when she was praying all i could think was, Sweet Jesus. This girl GETS it. She was talking to God so personally and so naturally, asking God for a baby boy for her mother, and to help her when she’s at school and being bullied and to make good “marks.” I have to believe that talking to our Father is in our DNA.
E and P’s prayers were equally precious, 7-year-old prayers, (‘Ohhh please God I would really love a puppy”, in a British accent of course. Imagine.) yet they understood that they could ask God for things they wanted, which is SO beautiful. After we played a little they sat down with me on the grass and somehow they just were asking me questions that were actually pretty theologically heavy… but either way I just got to tell them what i believe about Jesus. It was so so so sweet. “Thank you for that interesting information” says F.
I was a little nerviosa that we would get in trouble with F and E’s parents, but what was so sweet was that the girls were asking, and they were interested, and I think they heard something in our prayers that they wanted. Like hello, God just provided the opportunity for us to teach these beautiful girls how to pray. How sweet is that. The following night F sat down with me and asked me “Can we do what we did yesterday?” All I can think is, Jesus, I don’t know what you just did, but I’m pretty sure that these girls want to know more about you, and I can’t believe that you just used us to plant seeds in their lives! GOSSSSSSHHHHH i love these girls so much and want them know him so bad, and as frustrating as it is that we won’t be in Ealing anymore to build relationships with them, I have to believe that God is going to bring more people into their lives to love them and show them Jesus.
The good news is, it’s not up to me to do that. Praise the Lord, he uses us even in our weakness and unpreparedness and messy hearts.”
I love the story, and I really really love the last sentence!!! May we all remember. If you want to read more of Jackie’s musings from the “Mother Country,” check out “Camden Town, or Life across the Pond”: http://jacksnack91.wordpress.com/
