I did a house visit this week to an area that is being
demolished by the government in order to make Goa more tourist friendly.
Thousands are losing their homes. This girl has been coming to Rahab’s Rope for
some time and everyone knows her. She’s beautiful. She has the deepest brown
eyes that make her perfectly straight, white teeth pop even more when she
smiles. She’s 20 and lives with her mother and two younger brothers. I’ll call
her Rene.
So Ashang and I cross the mass of garbage and rubble and
squeeze down through the houses, which are actually concrete squares side by
side. I have to duck to avoid the tarps and blankets hanging from one house to
another to try and keep the rain out. Every few feet we pass a doorway covered
by a raggedy sheet that serves as their door. Mangy dogs are running in and out
of them and occasionally I have to hug a wall for someone to squeeze by. Soon
we stop in front of a door with the sheet pulled back and Ashang starts to take
off her shoes so I slip mine off also. (I’ve gotten used to my feet constantly
being filthy).
I peak inside but I can’t see anything…. It’s almost pitch
black. A mix of Hindi and broken English erupt and I figure out they want me to
sit in the only chair they have, a plastic picnic chair positioned right inside
the door. Rene, her mother, and Ashang situate themselves on the floor. As my
eyes adjust I make out Rene’s face. She smiles at me and her bright white teeth
are like a night light in the room. We visit with them, Ashang as my
translator, and learn more about their life. This was a temporary government
home. They were waiting on money the government has promised them in order to
move to a better area. No one in the household has jobs. We ask what we can
pray with them about, and Rene’s mother gladly requests prayer for jobs for her
sons, money from the government, and a nice husband for Rene to marry. So I
prayed for them.
At the end of the prayer is when it hit me. The God that I
praise from my cushy seat at church and pray to on my soft carpet in my room is
the same God who sat in that dark room with us on the concrete floor next to
Rene. Jesus, the Savior of my soul and my very best friend, is the same Savior
that speaks His love over Rene and her family as she cooks her dinner over the
tiny fire that had fizzled out in her dark hut. GOD IS THE SAME EVERYWHERE.
Just how far IS the East from the West? When you live here
everyday, it seems like an entire world away from America and everything I’ve
ever known. But it’s actually only a hop
and a skip from one hand of God over to the other one… Because He holds all of
us in His hands, and His the very same fingerprints that are evident in my life
are all over the sweet smile of Rene and the needs she has in her life.
