I've been telling a story. It starts with part one. This is part four.
While I drove and heard the man, Wanderley, tell his friends about Jesus, I could only think of one thing, Matthew 5:41.
When someone asks you to go a mile, go two.
As soon as we got to the outskirts of town, Wanderley told me I could drop them off. I asked them exactly where were they going, and he seemed embarrassed. They needed to cross town, through the slums. That's ok, I said. They thanked me. Thank Jesus was my reply.
As I drove back, I could only think about the heat, and how many hours it would have taken them to walk that much. God is good.
When I got back to my husband, the dog looked half-dead. Andre was gently tugging him towards the car, but he could barely move. He looked like he was going to faint in the middle of the road.
That's when I went into overdrive and did something stupid. I stopped listening. To me, my husband was clearly afraid and not able to get the dog into the car. Nevermind he was telling me to be careful as the dog had already bitten the other guy, I was busy getting things done.
I reached down to gently scoop the dog into my arms. I just knew God wouldn't allow anything to happen. I heard his squeal of pain and felt his teeth in my hand. As he ran towards the car, afraid of me, all I could see was the blood. And all I could think of was: rabies.
Andre drove while I prayed. The pain was incredible. The blood wouldn't stop flowing. I was sketching out scenarios thinking who dies of rabies nowadays?
It's amazing how one set back can take our eyes from the Lord. As I looked to the back seat expecting to see a foaming, wild looking dog, I saw gentleness. I saw delight in the wind that was blowing his ears and refreshing his tongue. Asides the fact that he was filthy, there was nothing wrong about him. He looked like the kind of dog people would pay to have. Like the kind of dog who allows your kids to tug his ears and sit on top. Like the kind of dogs I have at home. That's when I heard God's assurance that I would be ok.
(to be continued on Monday)
When I got back to my husband, the dog looked half-dead. Andre was gently tugging him towards the car, but he could barely move. He looked like he was going to faint in the middle of the road.
That's when I went into overdrive and did something stupid. I stopped listening. To me, my husband was clearly afraid and not able to get the dog into the car. Nevermind he was telling me to be careful as the dog had already bitten the other guy, I was busy getting things done.
I reached down to gently scoop the dog into my arms. I just knew God wouldn't allow anything to happen. I heard his squeal of pain and felt his teeth in my hand. As he ran towards the car, afraid of me, all I could see was the blood. And all I could think of was: rabies.
Andre drove while I prayed. The pain was incredible. The blood wouldn't stop flowing. I was sketching out scenarios thinking who dies of rabies nowadays?
It's amazing how one set back can take our eyes from the Lord. As I looked to the back seat expecting to see a foaming, wild looking dog, I saw gentleness. I saw delight in the wind that was blowing his ears and refreshing his tongue. Asides the fact that he was filthy, there was nothing wrong about him. He looked like the kind of dog people would pay to have. Like the kind of dog who allows your kids to tug his ears and sit on top. Like the kind of dogs I have at home. That's when I heard God's assurance that I would be ok.
(to be continued on Monday)
