Strike Sparks

What Love Looks Like

So the rain pours sweet and cold. Washes away the dusty road grime. Cleans us. Fresh.

Like His love.

I'm driving home after a long, sweaty day. I hold the tears back. 7 hours at the hospital. No food. No water. Only to find out another one. Another one has HIV.

And she's pregnant.

Alone in this world. And I think of Mama Heidi's words, "What does love look like?" So we stay and wait in the long lines. We hold hands through the ugly words. We pray. And we help her get medicine to keep this monster at bay. 7 hours and I feel barely able to move as I climb into the truck one more time to take Bijou home.

Bijou is a woman we met on outreach while praying for the sick. Another refugee in the slum. Just a girl no one cares for. Just a girl no one wants. Just a girl who might sell herself for a piece of bread.

But we want her. She’s four days past her due date. She’s having pain, but nothing comes.
Not another o

ne. Father, not another.

I won’t let another baby die.
I have no time.

But I know I will pick her up tomorrow to take her to the hospital because she needs our love.

We’re driving home,

when I hear the voices, "Mama Sarita," Although they say my name more like "Sharita." I know they are calling me.

My women. My sheep.

They run up to the truck breathless. I hand out hugs and offer them a ride home. We go a little further. "Mama Sharita!" And we wave and add a few more to our brood. One of our kids from the Nursery School smiles and waves, "Sharita!"

And then I get it.

Father is showing me He knows my name. He knows these children of mine. He knows their needs. And he knows the heart-breaking with every piece of my love given away. So He gives me some of His. Love. The smiles and hugs from my children.

I remember the prophecies: Aids. Babies. Healed. I hold onto those whispers like gold.

Sometime soon a new life will enter this world. And she will live.

Because He loves. Because He loves through people like you and me. We cannot stop. We cannot give up. We cannot look away though it hurts. We stay. Because He loves. We can too. Don't turn your eyes from this:

A woman alone and pregnant. A little lost sheep. Just one. But the one you can be the answer for. One we will be the answer for. We don’t have the money, but Bijou needs a job.

So I know that we will, even before I think about the cost.

I get home exhausted. I open the email and see the donation from a friend and the words that remind me why I do this every day. The Father gives me a hug.

So we give it all away. Because He has enough.

And tomorrow we'll do it again.