For God So Loved…

   
You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you togo and bear fruit—fruit that will last. Then the Father will give you whateveryou ask in my name.  

This is my command: Love each other.  

John 15:16-17

No one could have prepared me for this.

Sure, we had talked about the mission trip for a few months prior, scheduling our ministry time so as to fit in as much as possible.  I listened for most of it; I had never been to Cuba and the others had, most of them several times.  They spoke about the house churches and the poverty of the people and the oppression of the government, and it was surreal to me in my middle class suburban lifestyle.  Reaching for words they finally found something suitable.  “It’s like walking through the book of Acts,” they said, and I nodded, trying my best to imagine it. 

But as we entered the intimidating scene of customs andfaced uniformed guards and their rifles, I began to wither.  The stone-faced glare they bore towardsus shrunk me from the inside out. They did not want us there, that was very clear.  The bus ride from the airport was equally disheartening as I watched the people walking, walking everywhere underneath the tall brooding presence of Che and Castro plastered on billboards.  George W. was also there, and although I do not read much Spanish, the official opinion of him was clear.  I sat back in my seat as we tunneled through the collapsing city of Havana and wondered what in the world I thought I could do here.

But it was in one of those teeming house churches on Wednesday that the Lord spoke loudly to me, above the encroaching depression that seemed to encircle me.  He spoke in waves of assurance that threw back the tides of doubt.  He spoke in the way only He can as I looked into the face of a Cuban minister, throwing her hands up at my window in the bus.  We were pulling out onto the dirt road after a celebration service with a people who have much to regret, when this beautiful sister in Christ whom I had known for about three hours spread out her fingers, framing my face before her and said with Cuban sincerity, “I love you.”  She waved until we had gone, the moon shining on her wrinkled face, her wide smile gleaming in thenight.  And I knew He had answered my question.

You see, her voice carries with me to this day.  In fact, that moment in a ravaged country broke the spell I was under for many years — a spell of despair that encompassed more than the land of Cuba. I returned to this country with a new song in my heart, first taught to me by the heart of a woman oppressed. Many would say she is forsaken. Most of us would be overwhelmed by her circumstance.  But God expressed the strength of His love through her to me and the power of it that melts the strongholds we are most fearful of. 

No wonder He has called us to love the world. 

No wonder He has called us to missions.