Dust and Life
Dry, dusty boxes, caked with age and care, were slowly being opened and sorted in the musty attic above our grandfather’s kitchen. Memories were laden in this place.
Grandfather pulled an old black book from one, and a smile spread across his wrinkled face. He handed it to me, saying, “I wonder if you know someone who might make better use of this?”
Curious, I took it from his hands, brushing off a layer of dust. “Oh!” I replied in surprise. “I actually do! Just the right person, wouldn’t you know?”
And that was how we came to pass along the Good Book to our neighbor who occasionally shares her flavorful cooking with us. When we put the book into her just-recently-dried-from-washing hands, her eyes spoke words her tongue could not: a Bible in her own language. Words of life written down in the language she lived and breathed and thought in.
She finally whispered, “This is a gift so good, I never thought to ask for it. Oh where did you find this? How did you come by this? Thank you!”
To this day, we do not know how it got there. Grandfather doesn’t remember owning it. But there in her hands it lay, this precious gift of heavenly words written in foreign tongue.
These are the stories that remind of us of miracles of old. Like Philip in the New Testament who appeared suddenly at the Eunuch’s chariot just when he needed an answer, and who just as miraculously, disappeared after he baptized the man. These stories still happen today, to keep our faith alive, in the dusty land where we live, where souls are dry and aged with old traditions caked in lies, souls hard to crack open to the Words of Life. Pray with us to stay the course, when days are long, and seeds planted lay dormant. Pray that the Words of Life sown across our land here spread and grow. This is our Kingdom work.
This story is from the life and ministry of one of our Grace Partner families who must remain anonymous due to the region of the world where they work. Please contact [email protected] if you would like to learn more.