share with everyone and anyone

We were starving.  After all, we had just run to the other side of the terminal and back to share the Gospel with a prostitute (click here if you didn't read that story) and we had forty minutes before our plane boarded and we were hungry.


I settled for a smoothie and was slurping contentedly when Liv and Anna returned from Taco Bell with their salads.  They chattered back and forth as they sat down until Liv opened the bag and exclaimed with dismay, "I don't have a fork or napkins."  Groaning, she got back up to her feet and pleaded, "Does anyone want to come with me?"  Olivia is very much a wild one but she is not comfortable going up to a waiter and asking for napkins or calling a swim lesson client on the phone; someone---usually me---needs to go up with her as she asks for napkins or, as what often happens, I ask for napkins instead.


This time Anna volunteered to go back with Liv.


I had only sucked down another inch of my smoothie when I saw them returning, half-running, and laughing breathlessly.  They threw themselves down on the uncomfortable airplane chairs and Anna announced in a half-embarrassed half-pleased way, "We just shared Jesus with a believer!"  She collapsed in giggles.


"What?!"  We grinned and leaned in closer.  We wanted to hear this.  "What happened?"


"There was this guy who had ordered ahead of us," Liv explained as she methodically began to unwrap her fork from it's plastic.  "Like in the Navy Reserve or something.  But we kind of asked him where he was from---"


"Bakersfield," Anna supplied.


"Yeah, but we were friendly but then we left.  But then we came back and he was like 'back already?' and we were all 'yeah, we forgot a fork'.  And then..."  She and Anna exchanged glances and laughed sheepishly.  "And then Anna went up to him and said, 'Hey,' and then she looked at me"---Liv mimed making a grimace and mumbling a little---"and then blurted out 'doyouknowJesus??'"


We looked at Anna and she was laughing and nodding confirmation that yes, indeed, she had done exactly that.


"That's so awesome!" I said.  "Then what?"


"He said yeah, he's a Christian," Liv continued.  "He's trying to find a church in Bakersfield."


Anna broke in, "And I said, 'oh good, I don't need to tell you anything.'"  Both Liv and Anna were flushed and grinning, pleased that they had been bold but embarrassed that they had tried to share the Gospel with a believer.


But we all thought that was the best thing ever.  They had overcome their shyness and embarrassment and were bold for the Kingdom and God blessed that: they didn't find a surly atheist or polytheistic businessman, they found a kind Christian who was pleased that they were sharing Jesus in an airport.  I think that is so awesome and I am pleased to run with such wild ones.

caution: wild ones in dfw airport

After three days in obscure Waco, Texas, my family, Anna, and I were headed back home.  Flying out of Dallas/Fort Worth airport at 8:30 pm, we'd transfer at LA and then fly to our little-bitty San Luis Obispo airport, hopefully arriving before midnight.  From the airport we had a twenty minute drive home.  All told, we were in for an exhausting travel day.  There is just something about flying that---while exhilarating since you're flying to a different/new place---is tiring and gross.  You are cramped in a freezing airplane with a hundred or so bodies, breathing stale air, trying to sleep but being afraid to in case you end up on the stranger's shoulder next to you.  It's like riding in a huge shuttle bus of subarctic temperatures full of strangers.  You need a nap and a shower as soon as it's over.


But back to the story.  We arrive at the airport, drop off our rental car (affectionately nicknamed "The Gangsta" car), and the five of us hopped on board the shuttle that would take us to the terminal we'd be flying out of.  A seat away from me sat a young woman only a few years older than me---in her mid-twenties at the most---and an elderly gentleman.  I didn't pay particular attention to them other than noticing the inappropriate outfit she was wearing, but an elderly dad and his daughter traveling was not something that sparked my interest.  I was busy talking to Anna and Olivia and also thinking of the message we had heard earlier that day from Christene Caine, who founded the A21 Campaign against human trafficking.  In it she encouraged us to take risk and to not be afraid to look foolish for the Kingdom (wild one, anyone?).  


However, in was not long before I looked across the aisle of the shuttle and saw my mom regarding the young woman with tears in her eyes.  Surreptitiously, I glanced at the two out of the corner of my eye and noticed that the man had placed his hand very familiarly on his companion's leg.  I knew then that he was not her father.  He obviously did not value her since he allowed her to dress in such a demeaning way and my heart grieved for her, especially given the talk we heard this morning.  She was being used and did not know how much God valued her.


Mom looked at me, saw I understood, and whispered, "I should say something to them.  I need to talk to them and if the Holy Spirit gives me words to say I'm going to tell them."  We sat silent and as our sadness grew, the young woman grew bolder.  


I began to cry as I sat and prayed in my heart for this broken girl (benefit #1 to wearing sunglasses: no one notices tears).  She helped personify the sex trade for me: she was one among 21 million others; that number now had a face among the multitude.  She was a drop in a roiling sea of lost and broken girls and I grieved for them all.


But neither I nor mom said anything; I didn't because I didn't want to call her out in front of the shuttle-full of people and because I felt like I wasn't supposed to.  My role was just to pray.


The two got off two stops ahead of us, heading to gate E34 we heard them say.


Everyone was quiet on our way to our stop, as we got off the shuttle, and checked through security.  It was only when we were walking to our gate that mom finally said, "I should've said something.  I felt like I was supposed to say something but I was too afraid of looking foolish in front of the people on the bus; I can't let fear dictate my life.  I don't want to live a safe Christian life," she said, quoting some of the things Mrs. Caine told us in her message that Sunday morning.  "And I regret it," mom continued, "I regret not saying anything.  The Lord wanted me to talk to her, I didn't, and I regret it."


We dropped our multitude of bags on the chairs at our gate and Anna said, "We have time.  Our flight leaves in two hours.  Let's go after them.  We can find them."  The idea was crazy and wild and we loved it: chase after a prostitute in the DFW Airport?  Why not?  


The five of us prayed together for boldness and wisdom and speed to catch the two before they boarded a plane.  Then Liv announced she had a picture for the young woman:


She saw an island and one side flourished with trees, bright flowers, soft white sand, and clear blue water but the other side had a dark shadow over it and where the shadow fell the trees withered and the plants died and rocks came up in the soil.  Nothing good grew on that side of the island.  Olivia knew that the young woman was the island and that a choice was before her.  


Dad decided to stay behind and guard the luggage because no one wanted to drag them to the other side of the terminal and back.  All of us girls---mom, me, Liv, and Anna---would go.


Our gate was E4 and we power-walked to the other side of the terminal, praying that we hadn't missed them.  


E34.  No sign of the two.


E35.  Nothing. 


E36.  E37.  E38.  Practically empty.


We doubled back and combed through the gates again.  "We're sure they said E34, right?" we asked each other.  Yes, we were sure.  We circled through that gate two more times.  Still no sign.


Lord, I prayed, please help us find this girl.  You want mom to talk to her, don't allow her to stay hidden from us.


"I see them," mom announced.  Sure enough, the two were sitting by the window of an airport restaurant; he ate chili while she perused a menu.


Anna and I took up our battle stations in the corner of a neighboring store as planned (we didn't want to overwhelm them with our formidable numbers)  where we would pray and intercede for the conversation.  Liv prayed for boldness to arise on mom before joining us.  


Through the glass we saw mom go stand at their table and began speaking, her face always pleasant.  The young woman laughed a little, glancing continuously at her companion for guidance.


Jesus, even if she brushes this encounter aside, plant the seed in her heart, we prayed.


In 10 minutes, mom emerged, feeling relieved and not a little sick to the stomach from her own boldness and the situation.


It turned out the girl was not local; she was from Ukraine or somewhere in Eastern Europe.  We were stunned; we had just heard an hour an a half message about trafficked girls in Ukraine and in that part of the world and here we were presented with a very similar situation in the DFW Airport.  The young woman traveled with the man and they'd been to many cities in the US on their trip thus far.  She was confused and did not understand what mom was trying to do.


"Jesus loves you and is actively pursuing you," mom told us that she kept repeating to the young woman, before and after she told her Liv's picture.  "He has a plan and a purpose for your life; He has only good things in store for you."


"What do I have to do to get this love?" she asked.  


"Absolutely nothing, just invite Him into your life," mom answered.  "He wants to be your friend so much."  


The girl laughed nervously.  "If I was better at English, I would tell you to stop and go away," she replied.  "


There were no tears, she did not exclaim, "I want to leave this life now!" but the point is that mom heard God and obeyed; she spoke to that Ukrainian girl who will probably remember that conversation for the rest of her life: the lady who talked to her about Jesus in the airport.  She didn't ask Jesus into her life but she listened.  She heard that He loves her and that He is chasing after her.


And mom?  When I asked her how she felt afterwards she smiled and said, "I absolutely do not regret talking to her.  Not at all.  No regrets."