She was in her late forties, hair died blond, dressed like lamb, tattooed and full of facial metal. Like the Ninevites in the days of Jonah, when it came to spiritual matters she couldnt tell her right hand from her left. But she was a mother and she loved her children and her two eldest daughters had just been diagnosed with cervical cancer. I listened for a long time then I struggled to connect on a spiritual level with a woman in desperate need who seemed to have never had a single thought about God in her life. After about half an hour she softened and tears began to form in the corner of her hardened eyes. I told her among other things, that none of these things meant that God had stopped loving her, or that things had got out of his control and I left her with the promise of prayer, a Bible, a reading guide and my phone number. I have no idea how this will end up but I came away pleased that something as naff as a Fishers Ghost festival and the support of some great Christians friends gave me the opportunity to hand out literature and chat with the lost. I hope that I would never get to old, busy or important for opportunities such as this.
Posted on: Sat, 02 Nov 2013 11:06:05 +0000
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