Darla France

Girls of different ages between 5 and 18 rushed to greet us as we got out of the van. Their smiles flashed like sunshine to us.

Some spoke a little broken English and said, “Noah! Noah lady!” as they curtsied the traditional greeting given to an elder. 

“You remembered!” I smiled as I said it. “Yes, we talked about Noah!”  Noah was our story adventure with them the last time we came. This year our story would be Jonah. Mma Consuello and her husband were deeply devoted Christians and the love and affection for all 48 was evident. 

My heart felt so warmed and close to them all over again. At the same time, I felt the heartsickness of knowing that each girl, (even the little 5-year old’s), had been raped and used up, having now been rescued from living on the streets or in brothels. Some of their families had dissolved. Some were beaten and had come to Mma Consuelo’s home for girls, where she had rescued them from sexual slavery and prostitution. There were 48 girls living in her small, modest home. 

As Mma Consuello shared stories of the many girls, the one my heart ached for the most was 8 yr. old Lucy. She sat alone and her eyes were hollow. They saw but didn’t seem to see. Although intelligent, her little body was twisted. We were told that she had Cerebral Palsy and had been taken advantage of by many men in her village because she could not resist. Her parents abandoned her because of her disabilities. Consuello learned of this and took her into their home. 

Lucy seemed unable to make eye-contact with me. She faintly smiled as I asked our translator, Judy Mbondo, to tell her that we had brought our traditional “Joy Bags” filled with small gifts and treats for all the girls. Her feelings of being less than, tainted by life, and her physical disability felt palpable to me. I touched my hand gently to her face and told her in Swahili that she was beautiful and so loved by Jesus. Almost imperceivable she nodded yes. 

She comes to mind often since we left in July. I am reminded of the many of us who are bent and crippled in our emotions as we feel some of the same things Lucy felt but for different reasons. Our ability to really engage with the world because we feel broken and ruined. Unable to connect because we have been judged or criticized by those who couldn’t understand. We want to know we are loved, but trust has been disabled by the cruel symptoms of a disease called shame. 

But God… He comes to us in the very center of it all and it is as if He places His gentle hand on us and tells us we are beautiful to Him. That we are loved and that He has gifts for us that we cannot even imagine. But God… He has come to restore our honor and our dignity. He knows that “shame is a death arrow to the soul” (Henri Nouwen) and that He alone has become our shame on the cross. 

Lucy. I believe that in time she will be able to receive the love and dignity that was lavished upon her. I pray the same for all who are reading this and struggling with this emotional affliction today. God’s promise to Israel through Isaiah is still for us today through Christ.  

“Instead of your shame 

you will receive a double portion, 

and instead of disgrace 

you will rejoice in your inheritance. 

And so you will inherit a double portion in your land, 

and everlasting joy will be yours.” Isaiah 61:7

In His care, Darla France

News reports from the media have broken my heart lately as I am sure it has yours. The images we are seeing are gut-wrenching to say the least. In moments between clients or in other times alone, I have literally wept. I have cried out to God and asked for the people of Afghanistan to have mercy. Particularly the women. 

Even worse has been what has NOT been reported on the National news. There are thousands of Christians who have been dragged out of their homes, rounded up, tortured, and killed for their faith in Jesus Christ. 

Christine Cain posts on Instagram recently: 

“At the moment we are praying desperately for friends on the ground in the house church movement in Afghanistan where the Taliban are coming after all Christians. Their courage is immense-most expecting to meet Jesus face to face in the next two weeks.” 

To say it is the WORST DAY for the already persecuted Christians would be a strong understatement. But one of my “go to” prayers is often to ask God for His perspective on what is happening. I surely don’t have it. So, I asked. A few days later as I readied for work something came into my mind. It was directly related to what I had been thinking about. 

It was the scripture in Acts about Stephen speaking before the Rabbinic court. He absolutely enraged his Jewish audience, and was taken out of the city and stoned to death. His final words offered forgiveness for his attackers, echoing those powerful words of Jesus on the cross (Luke 23:34). 

^“When the members of the Sanhedrin heard this, they were furious and gnashed their teeth at him. ⁵⁵ But Stephen, full of the Holy Spirit, looked up to heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. ⁵⁶ “Look,” he said, “I see heaven open and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God.” 

At this they covered their ears and, yelling at the top of their voices, they all rushed at him, dragged him out of the city and began to stone him… 

While they were stoning him, Stephen prayed, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.” Then he fell on his knees and cried out, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” When he had said this, he fell asleep.” Acts 7:54-60 

Could this be the Lord’s perspective for me? Maybe a number of the Christians being killed looked up to heaven and realized that in the very instant they were killed, they would also change their address! Their spirits would be transported to be with their King that instant! 

WORST DAY TURNED INTO BEST DAY! I began to pray that they too would be filled with the Holy Spirit and see the very Glory of God in those moments. I prayed that they could actually lay down and fall asleep! 

I don’t know what God’s plan is, but I do know this, He has one. He is Sovereign over all world events and over our lives as we submit to His good care. I know that He can take a persecuted man of God being tortured and killed for his faith, and cause him to see the Spirit of God. He alone can help that man fall asleep during it all. 

I advise this dear readers; ask God for His perspective on something in your own life. He will answer. He’s been answering questions from His people all throughout time. 

And the other truth that I mustn’t forget is this:  God can turn our worst days into our best days! The way we view our troubles on our worst day can turn when we see His perspective. 

In His Care,

 Darla France 

As I arrived my eyes became a little teary as I stood at the back of the tents that were set up on our LifeTouch Ministries and Counseling Center parking lot. Big and small tents were filled with participants and volunteers who milled around at our annual UnGarage sale. 

Everything from school supplies and household goods to hundreds of pieces of clothing from infant through adult sizes hung neatly on racks and piled high on tables. All donated by generous supporters. 

A food truck was parked to the side where good food smells wafted out into the breeze. Children enjoyed face painters and a tent with a beautiful safari theme.  Last but not least, a tent with two stylists offering stylish haircuts.

The BEST part? Every single thing offered was free. We call it the UnGarage sale for that very reason. 

And from 9:00a.m. to 4:00 p.m. they came, and they came, and they came. 

By the end of the day, over 200 people were fed a free and delicious lunch. All told, we estimated that over 400 people came to shop, or should I say UNshop, for what they needed. 

Yes, I felt the tears in my eyes when I first arrived. I spoke a grateful prayer to God as I realized that He was allowing us to continue to walk out the calling that He gave from the very beginning. 

We know that the Kingdom of God is upside down in its ways. Those of us who operate in it here on earth get glimpses of how it makes little sense to our common sense sometimes. 

A few people who came asked me, “Is this a fund raiser? Or “Are we expected to give a donation?” I said, “Oh no…There are no expectations.” One woman said angrily, “WHY IS IT FREE? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?” As I told her why it was free, my joy grew even bigger. “Because Jesus loves you,” I said. 

And as they came, and they came, and they came, there were a few other things that were free. I suppose in the telling, I have saved the best for last. Here they are: 

God’s grace was free. It flowed through the tents and the people that very hot day as we all served. Even in the tearing down, there was grace. There was love. There was joy, respect, shared community, and generosity. There was enough of all those God-given gifts for all of us and those who attended, and those gifts of the Kingdom will continue far into our days. 

We accomplished our tag line that day, “Helping people return to JOY.”  As I wiped away a few tears and headed into the crowd, a line of a well-known song by songwriter, Peter Scholtes kept going through my mind; 

“And they’ll know we are Christians by our love, by our love. Yes, they’ll know we are Christians by our love.” 

“The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, 

because the LORD has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. 

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted…” 

Psalm 61:1 NIV 

It had been a long, hot July day for me as the air conditioning in our office was not working. Typically the grocery store was a place where I rushed though the straight isles like a rat searching for its cheese reward at the end of a maze.  But this day was different. The coolness and mellow lighting was soothing to me as I leaned on my cart, hoping it would support my tired self. 

I turned into another aisle when I saw him. I didn’t know his name, but I had seen him before in the local grocery store. He was a young man who looked about 30 and had mental and physical disabilities.  He seemed to always be with the same caretaker, trudging along behind her. But as I said, today was a different kind of day.  As I came closer to where he stood, he lifted both arms straight up in the air, looked me right in the eyes and shouted, “HE IS RISEN!” Although I didn’t raise my hands and shout, my knee jerk response was the very answer that we had given in our church on Easter morning.  “He is risen indeed!”. His smile back at me was remarkable. His caretaker was disturbed and seemed not to know who to silence, him or me! However, she told him to be quiet and leave people alone. Posturing back to his usual trudge, he put his head down and continued to walk along. 

I kept trudging too. It had happened so quickly. I was asking myself, “Did that REALLY just happen?” Then I was ashamed that I had not affirmed his joyful and impulsive act of faith.  So I quickly went back to the aisle where they walked and came close with my cart. I looked at him and said, “What is your name?” He told me. I called him by name and said, “Jesus IS risen, and you gave me a good day when you said it right here in the store.  Thank you.” He beamed at me. His caretaker politely nodded and said, “We are trying to teach him not to have outbursts.”

My point? This man was free. He may not have been free in his body, but he was free in his soul and his spirit. I believe that the Spirit of freedom can often recognize it in another. Some are more open and perceptive than others. I’m sure I did not appear very free as I tiredly pushed my grocery cart. However, I am free – even when I don’t feel it. So are you. 

Now, I am not suggesting we all go out and raise our hands and shout in public places. Then we would be accused of having an “outburst”, and of course we don’t want that. We are too civilized for that. But no matter what time of year, we can celebrate the Easter source of freedom.  It is the RISEN Christ.

Like my perception of the grocery store, some of our days are perceived as an endless maze of details and decisions and hot-and-tired trudging along. This earthly life can be a rat race and, of course, we are the rats. But thank God for those free people who startle us as we trudge in the numbing quest for our personal cheese! They spontaneously raise their perspective arms and shout, “HE IS RISEN!” We can choose to join them with the glad agreement that freedom gives, or we can inwardly scold them for having an “outburst” that is inappropriate. We can keep trudging or thank them. We can let them be separate from us, or we can choose to join them.

Are you free? You can be. Despite circumstances or relationships, you can be free. Why? Because true freedom takes a second glance past the disabilities of life and of others, and even of ourselves, and shouts, “HE IS RISEN!” Yes, He is risen indeed.

He stayed in his spot. At least as he knew it to be. He looked down the court one way then turned and looked the other from the round circle of lines in the middle where he stood. Big clumps of children who mostly seemed bigger than he was raced up and down the court chasing a soccer ball towards a net. But he just stood still and watched or walked around the circular lines.

Parents cheered, “C’mon buddy! You can do it! RUN! RUN! Run after the ball with your team!” But there he stood. Turning toward the four grandparents and his mom and dad. Smiling and waving. His shirt hung down past his knobby little knees. His knee socks and special tennis shoes were exactly standard. He looked just like everyone else.

His father ran to the middle during a time out. You could see the big smile on the little boys face. His father gave a few pointers, patted his head and high fived him, and the little son nodded and beamed in his father’s presence.

Time to start again. But there he stood. In the circle. We grandparents waved and cheered and yelled that he was a star player in our eyes. We said “Run buddy run! Run your fastest!” This time the boy looked back at his family and smiled and lifted his arms in pride. Basically, he believed we were all so proud (which we were) and he was proud of himself.

After the game, people were rolling up bleachers and the kids were eating the snacks the designated mom had brought. The contented little boy sat alone on the floor. I got down on the floor across from him and smoothed his hair. I thought to myself what a beautiful little boy he was. I said, “ Wow!!! What a game you played. I bet next week you’ll run back and forth and kick that ball like super man!” He looked straight into my eyes. Totally unaffected by my pressured suggestion,and shook his head with a very hard “no.” Hmmmm. He has a reason.

So catching on I said, “ Well, are you afraid to run with the rest of the kids? Are you afraid you might get hurt?”

“No,” he quietly said with a mouth full of fish crackers, balancing his juice packet between his knees. “Hmmmmmm, I said. Did you have a reason for standing right in the circle?” He nodded and took a hard swallow of the fish crackers. “ Because that was my spot. I had to stay in my spot.” He smiled at me and raised his voice and said with so much pride….” And I did it!”

Wow. I had surely missed it.Yet I couldn’t get the innocent joy out of my mind all day. Sometimes in life we’ve all gotten a bit confused now and then. Often people watch us and think to themselves that we are just out of it. That we don’t play the game well.That we are defined by our ability to keep up. They want us to perform better so they can like us.

Yet our Father, the one in our Heavenly family, knows what we’ re doing and what it’s most “like” us to do. While many in the world watch us and judge us as a failure, He cheers. Sometimes we even have a few life giving people cheering with Him because they think and act as He does. He knows that the “clump” of the people in this running world is chasing after meaningless things for meaningless reasons. He knows we’ve missed the ball, the point, the talent, the rules,the promotion. Well, we’ve somehow missed the world’s expectations. But, we haven’t missed His. He knows that we’re doing the best we can and that we are right in the “wrong” place we are supposed to be. At least according to the “clumps.” The world doesn’t understand and sometimes “our spot” is a pretty tough place to stand.

Stand in your spot. Look misunderstood and like you are a little crazy. Keep looking to the sidelines for the few but other cheering “spot standers.” A beautiful thing will happen. Your Heavenly Father will walk tall and broad and strong right into your spot. He will be smiling and instructing and high-giving and patting you on the head telling you,”Great job my child! I’m so proud of you.”