God Answers Prayers

I was at my wit’s end.  I hate to see my loved ones hurt.  I was frustrated, stressed and fed up – the first time that I have felt that way here in any meaningful capacity.  It is not worth getting into the root of my feelings, but suffice to say my heart has been heavy lately.    So, I prayed a lot last night.  More than I have in a while.  I wanted to understand why these things had been transpiring lately, I wanted to do something to make it easier for the people I love here that are hurting, and I was coming up empty on both fronts.  Not a good feeling. 

So today I went to school with a little less pep in my step than usual.  For the sake of the kids, I did my best to compartmentalize my feelings and remind myself how much I love them and how important the work that we do together each day is.  But that wasn’t an easy task, and I personally felt like even the ten year olds that I teach could see through this act of mine.

I made it through my first three classes and to the short recess we have each day at 10:00am.  Like always, I headed to open up the library so that kids who had finished all of their work from the morning could come and read.  One of the favorite pupils from P5 followed me to the library and stood at the door, while I entered in and began opening up the windows.  She stood in the door’s frame, silent and still, until I glanced back at the door and realized she was there.  From the threshold of the library, she had something for me, and extended her arm so that I could see her hand was tightly closed, apparently around a small object.  Now, as absolutely sweet and precious as Lilian Thomas is, she also is a jokester.  And lately, she had gotten a kick of pulling little, harmless pranks on me so I figured that she had a rock or a torn piece of paper or something of that nature in her hand.  With my low spirits, I wasn’t really in the mood for a joke, but I have learned over the years that one of the responsibilities of teaching includes giving your best to your children even when you aren’t really up for it.  So, I smiled and invited her over to the other side of the library where I was straightening up some books.  She walked over, with this tiny smile on her face, stood very close to me, and opened her hand.  In her palm, there was a shiny silver heart, larger than a quarter.  I looked down at the heart to find the word ‘God' inscribed in beautiful penmanship on the front of the heart.  I shared with Lilian how lovely it was, and she extending her hand further, inviting me to take a closer look.  I picked up the heart, turned it over to find the words: 'answers prayers'.

I gasped.  Or at least I think I did.  I felt like a volt of electricity has just surged through my body.  My stomach definitely did a somersault and I felt like I was having an out of body experience.  It was God.  100% God.  Staring me smack-dab in the face and trying to smack some sense into me, in a saintly way of course.  Now, of course God is all around us each and every day, blah, blah, blah, but I have never felt God so forcefully and clearly presenting Himself to me.  He was literally ‘answering my prayer’ in that moment, sending me a message that everything that had been weighing me down lately would be okay.  And for once, I wasn’t being so dense and self-absorbed that I missed His message.  Oh no, I received it, loud and clear.

Lilian Thomas. 

Grace is an amazing thing.  In just that one second, my spirits went from bottom of the barrel sad to top of the charts ecstatic.  A completely calming sense overcame me, as if all of my worries, concerns and festering feelings were washed away.  Shocked, still holding the silver heart, I looked into Lilian’s eyes, warm, calm, inviting, and it was if I was literally staring into the face of God.  When I think about God, I think about an all-powerful source, one who does not have to show His strength, but instead exudes an undeniable sense of peace and acceptance.  Standing in the Stella Maris library on a random, sunny day, the poised, collected expression on Lilian's face was exactly that.  God: an old, white, elder man with a gray beard? Nope.  A small, beautiful, clean-shaven haired, little girl with skin as dark as ebony, an angelic smile and two toothpick-wide wooden posts serving as her earrings. 

I placed the heart back into her hand, thanking her for showing me and again telling her how sweet the heart was.  I tried to collect myself and return to straightening up the library, at which point Lilian told me that the heart was for me.  I, of course, automatically declined, thanking her for being so thoughtful and explaining that this heart was clearly very special and hers.  But she insisted.  She told me that it was one of the many gifts she had received from her sponsor and that she really, really wanted me to have it.  After about the seventh, ‘Madam, please’, I caved.  I figured it was not worth saddening her by declining, and I definitely did not want her to think I was unappreciative or unwanting of her kindness and thoughtfulness. 

Lilian’s heart instantaneously became one of my most prized possessions.  I carried it around for the rest of the day like it was a piece of gold.  It represents both the kindness she showed me by sharing something of hers with me and it represents one of the most amazing, powerful spiritual experiences of my life. 

I already love Tanzania.  And I love each of the kids I teach so deeply too. Like I needed another, so moving, reason to love the country and them even more. But, thank you, Lilian Thomas, for reminding me of God's great power and the love and care He has for each of His children.