Frustrations

fronting-meeting-placeMy heart bleeds in pity for the low state she is presently in–a woman sick of an ailment she thought incurable, without any money, without any friend, forsaken by kids, left to rot by relatives.

She was special. She was special in more ways I could think of, and that was before. She was the first person who heard me preach in this part of nowhere, the first to ask me to share dinner with her and her family in the dilapidated shack she calls home, the first to invite neighbors to listen to me preach. I could relish with joy preaching to a big crowd who came because this woman took it upon herself to challenge their faith and tell them in her laywoman’s tongue the original Jesus she had heard me teach. Come and listen and be blessed, she would say.

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