When I was about 13 I was asked a question: "If you had a million dollars, what would you buy?"
There was a group of us at Starbucks. Our youth pastor and a leader or two and about 10-15 students. We had just begun our summer internship, Launch. We were sitting outside on the patio, circled around, drinks in our hand, dying in the hundred degree heat of a Texas summer. And one of the leaders brought the question to the table. Kids began answering: a fire truck, tons of shoes, etc, etc. Typical things any teen would answer and feel they needed if they had that kind of money to spend. The question came around to me.
I was not exactly the most open kid in the world. I was shy and awkward nine times out of ten. I was scared of everyone and everything. I was certain we would not be around long and did not feel the need to make friends and I was terrified of living and loving and losing, but I was always me. Always a girl I am still proud to say was me. At the time, I had an obsession with homeless people.
These people intrigued me. They filled my thoughts and daydreams. They made me wonder "Why?" and "Who are they?" and, I think, most importantly, "Does anyone care?". This last one burned my heart until finally I said yes. Yes, I care.
I stared at my youth leaders. I am still pretty sure I looked like I was about to cry and vomit. I swallowed hard and answered, "A house. I would buy a house...and give every homeless person a place to stay." (I believe I also said I would buy shoes to put on their feet, but I may have dreamt that last part.) It was a naive answer, but it came from deep within my heart. It was my greatest desire.
Today, I work at one of the many Starbucks in the area. Last month, I remembered this discussion and I began to think. Not long after that answer, my family and I began a ministry to the homeless. Today, my heart has turned to woman and girls. My heart breaks as I think of their pain and I wonder once again, "Does anyone care?". Again, I answer yes.
I began to think, if I had a million dollars.... I would buy that home again. Probably on a bit of land. More than likely, a big home. And I would fill it again. Only this time, it would be the women and children. The ones who have been broken and abused. The ones who cry out at night, but not aloud, in their hearts. The ones who question if there is a good God because of all the bad that has happened to them. The ones who have been raped, molested, and beaten. The ones who have miscarried after a beating or who have had a baby ripped from their womb without their consent. I see them. I hear them. And I desire for them to know. To know the truth.
It took me a long time, but I finally found peace in the truth of God. I ran as hard as I could, I cried out and still shoved Him aside. Then, I ran to Him. To arms open so wide. To the Man that bore a cross and my sin. To my spotless and pure Lamb.
I think about these woman and children and I call them "mine". How much more does the good Father? I look at these woman. I listen to their stories. This is their life right now, and I get so excited when I think about how the Lord will move and have His will. I know only He can.
It is two months until I leave for Madison, WI. Two months until YWAM and I am still in need of money for my lecture phase and in need of all my outreach money. Oh, and that girl I told y'all about- I have all her money and I am SO excited! Be praying and look for an update soon.
