Two Places and One Time

I’m always the sucker that wants to be all caught up in two places and one time. Though fully submersed in Eastern Europe, my heart longed with a desperation I’m unsure was even my own to be here, in my city, with my team. I say mine because I’m learning to take responsibility. I don’t own it, and I don’t want to. But I told Him I’d be all out for all of Him. So I say mine, cause I don’t own it but He has most certainly pointed to it and called my name to be there.

So today after we were honored to speak at a church about human trafficking and what God is doing in our city, we went out for breakfast as big as a mid-sized car and told stories of my being in Europe and their being right here. And I’d bared a big smile and wished the biggest wish that I could have been there and been right here too.

See we go out on our streets in our city and we meet the most beautiful people at the most outrageous of times who’ve been caught up in making not-so-easy money and dark, dark times.

And so there they were in those dark times meeting beautiful hearts when one Mr. John continues to cruise these familiar streets. Though we try to stay away from roaming cars to be sure there is no confusion of who we are, he was motioning and our fearless leader couldn’t resist. Though fear would say he is preying she felt deep in her heart he must be praying.

Something like fear and a rush of adrenaline leapt straight from her heart down deep in her toes and she moves towards his slowly opening window. She’s prepared a letter for a moment such as this. A letter filled to the brim of God’s incredible love for him, and she’d not even known whom to address it to. And he takes the letter and drives away while she strolls away and my team, this great team, they spend the time to just pray. Because they all knew he was preying but perhaps, just perhaps he could be praying.

No sooner he came back around in his car and motioned for the leader. The fiercely loving, tiny little leader bold enough to love the one who was preying. Instead one of our guys makes his way to the window and the man says no, I need to talk with her, the one that gave me this. And as he motioned towards the opened letter filled to the brim of His love she began to walk, nearly run towards him. He might punch her, but really, she’d been hoping he’d exchange preying for praying. And at the early hours of the morning a man in his car cruising streets for easy lust, said thank you, for he’d been praying. And he got out of the car and let the team come all around him and pray for him. He got into his car, and drove home to his family, drove away from all that kept him in hurt and insecure. Sure, he’d have a big mess to clean up once getting home. But if the God of his prayers brought praying hands all around him as he struggled preying through these streets, than surely He is the God of restoring absolutely all things too.

Someone prayed for us after the church service today to bless and protect God’s work through our hands and they said ‘be with them in those ungodly hours’ to which our whole team hid bursting laughter from erupting through our teeth. Trust me, there is not an hour in which God doesn’t own. Cause at the early hours of this wild night Mr. John found himself on his knees before The King and I’m certain there isn’t an hour that isn’t His. Though I’d wished I could be both over there and right here, I am beyond aware and excited He being over there and certainly right here; He owns the night.


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