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My first official day of ministry was nothing less than I expected. Simultaneously difficult, satisfying, taxing, and life giving.

It was supposed to be an easy day, cleaning up the bank of a nearby river. We stood in a group and our host handed out tools. He asked who wanted a broom and I held out my hand, but he walked right past me. He asked who wanted a shovel and I put out my hand…and again right past me.

Then he said, “ok, everyone left will be doing street evangelism.” I felt nauseous. Of course God would take what I’ve been dreading and throw me in on the first day. We set up a lemonade stand and people started going out in pairs. Someone needed to stay behind and man the table and I enthusiastically volunteered for that. My squadmate Eric was quick to deny me that luxury “you go on, I’ll be praying for you guys from here.” Ughh are you kidding me? I felt like sending up a flare, an SOS. Can someone please just let me pick up trash??! Garbage has never looked so refreshing.

I took a breath (and some lemonade) and headed out with my translator Laura to evangelize on the street. It was helpful to have her there as a buffer, but we felt equally out of our element so as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t sit back and let her do all the work.

As I was praying for who God had for me I heard the color red. So I began scanning the crowd. I looked across the street and saw a vendor wearing a red shirt selling coffee and immediately knew. I blurted out to Laura “him” and quickly made a beeline. I sat down and asked what his name was and introduced myself. I asked him questions about his family, his job, and his life. Then I asked him what he did for fun, and that’s when it happened…my worst nightmare.

He began talking about the women he pays for and uses for pleasure. He began talking about his desire to meet an American woman and return to the states with her. Laura’s countenance quickly changed as she shifted with anger and frustration. I got the feeling she was leaving out derogatory comments meant for me, she was obviously anxious to leave. I apologized for putting her through this, but insisted I needed to be there. 

It’s important to know I have a heart that aches for women in prostitution, whether they’ve been forced or, for whatever reason, have willingly chosen to sell their bodies for a living. Every human part of me wanted to throw him over the bridge. But as strong as my disgust was, God overshadowed it with His love for this man.

So I sat beside him, put my hand on his shoulder and prayed for him. I thanked God for sending him to this earth and sending me to Colombia to cross paths with him. I prayed that God would send him peace and satisfaction that no earthly comfort could provide. That he would seek a relationship with Jesus and be blessed because of it. 

Afterwards I felt sick. Sick that I talked to a man who supports the industry I hate so much. 
Sick that I got to know him, see a picture of the two beautiful daughters he adores.
Sick that I laughed with him and spent time with him and made an effort to understand him.
Sick that I prayed for him…and the worst part….I meant every word.

It’s true, I WANT him to pursue a relationship with Jesus. I WANT him to find the joy that is only possible with Christ. I WANT God to bless him, so that he will never again be seduced by that world. So that he never feels so empty and incomplete he looks for cheap, cruel, fleeting satisfaction of the flesh…

Because God loves this broken man. He loves him just as much as he loves me. 

I can confidently say that the first day on the race foreshadowed what this year will look like. It was extremely challenging, and extremely rewarding. I was pushed from my comfort zone. I  learned and grew because of it. I talked it over with my team and fought back tears as I struggled with the weight of what I had done. They offered me insight, wisdom, understanding and love.

Today I prayed for a man. A stranger. One who uses and objectifies women to meet his needs. A dad. A son. A man Jesus thought worth dying for.
I sincerely hope I planted a seed in his heart to know Jesus better.

I hope it changed him…because I know without a doubt…

It changed me.

You see with God, even your worst nightmare, isn’t so scary after all.

8 responses to “Who Are You? Your Worst Nightmare”

  1. Emmy J,
    I’m so excited for you! I pray for power, strength and safety for all of your team. May our great God use you in a mighty way. Refresh and renew your spirit and body with the word of Jesus dear one??
    Sending love and prayers.

  2. Powerful, Emily! Love conquers all. Yes, your words to him got to the very heart of the issue–his heart. Praying for you and Redeem as you carry the Message to people around you. Way to step out of your comfort zone, though. Isn’t it strange that we’d rather pick up inanimate garbage then to deal with people’s garbage? Vaya con Dios!

  3. Dear Emily,
    This post causes me to feel so many emotions. I appreciate your vulnerability and willingness to respond to the voice of the Holy Spirit even when you are being pushed far from your comfort level. I look forward to following your journey and seeing the many ways God is going to work in and through you to further His kingdom. God bless you and place a hedge of protection all around you as you serve Him.

  4. Emily, you are an amazing writer. God has blessed you and gifted you with a toolset specifically for this time in your life. I am so excited to see your relationship with God flourish and for it to impact so many of us as it does!

  5. What an amazing “first day” you had, Emily – I am certain that you touched the man’s heart and soul with your counsel and prayers. May the Lord bless you and keep you.