It's Finally Connecting

                               

It was a typical day in rainy season. The air felt heavy and sticky, and it looked as if it could rain soon.  I carried my umbrella under my arm, along with a bag carrying my bible, some water, some paper and crayons.

Today was our first day of the new ladies bible study.  They had asked me to go through a bible study book with them, but I hoped to teach it in a way that would connect. 

I am always a little nervous before leading a Bible study.  When I arrived at the church, the front gate was locked.  I maneuvered through the mud, over to the pastor's house to ask for the key. Thankfully his son was outside and soon fetched it for me.

But then the pastor's wife, Marienela, came out. She didn't think we should start the bible study today. A couple of the ladies were away, and she didn't want them to miss out. I sighed, pushing down my frustration. I had planned the whole week around this Bible study, and had turned down another invitation because I had said I would be here.

Not wanting to let it get to me, I stayed for a few minutes chatting with Marienela, and then started heading home. I was barely out of the church yard when three other ladies came walking up the lane, children in tow.

"You're not leaving, are you?"  One of them asked. It was well past the time the study was supposed to start, but I knew they had come from the far end of the neighborhood. We stopped there and I told them what Marinela had said.

"Please, let's do the Bible study anyway, even though not everyone is here."  They begged. I was more than happy to agree.

Soon we were all settled in the church, plastic chairs set in a circle. We started and the other ladies trickled in little by little.  By the end there were over ten of us.

The class that day was supposed to be on the story in John 4 about the Samaritan woman who Jesus met at the well.  I had planned to read through the passage and then illustrate it together.  About halfway through the reading, I regretted it. The reading was painfully difficult for several of the ladies, and the elderly woman to my right was nodding off.

But I patiently waited until they were done.  Then I got out a table and covered it with paper. I handed out the crayons and told them that we were going to illustrate the story.  They hesitated a few minutes, giggling and saying that the felt like little kids.  However, soon they got to work and there was much discussion about what should be drawn.

Once finished (I wish I had a picture of it) we stood around, looking down at their drawing, full of stick figures and fanciful illustrations.  We retold the story, using the drawing to remind us of the key points.  I had a list of several questions to spark discussion about the story.  I asked the first question.  One woman answered, than another.  Soon the conversation switched from Spanish to Woun Meu.  One idea lead to another, as they found themselves relating to the story, both to the woman who had such an incredible encounter with the Son of God, and her village, who were ready to believe.

As one comment lead to other, you could feel in the air the excitement as the truth in God's word made them come alive. You could also feel the hunger.  How could they have an encounter with God? Were they ready to take this good news to others, as the woman had? Were they ready to receive the word? Were they eager to believe?

I simply stood back and let the conversation flow.  The rest of my questions were not needed. They got it. They were connecting with God, and with his word.  My role as teacher was done for that day.

The sun was getting low in the sky, the children were getting restless, and dinners were waiting to be made at home.  We reluctantly brought the meeting to a close. Several ladies mentioned how much they had enjoyed the illustrating and storytelling.

"I must be a little child, because I understand it so much better this way,” Laughed one of the women.  The others agreed.  Well, according to Jesus, being like a little child is a good thing.

We left with joy in our hearts. I rejoiced because I had observed something beautiful that afternoon.  God let me play a part in bringing his word to those who were hungry for it.  They rejoiced because they had come needing to hear from God, and he had spoken.