Spunk

I received a phone call last night from a former student. She attended one of the courses for teenagers over the summer. She and her four friends all came together; they were my only students in that class, so we were able to relax a bit and learn English in more of a "girly" manner with giggles and lots of shopping examples. Amidst discussing relative clauses and the correct use of the past perfect tense, we also fit in a serious conversation here and there. One afternoon we were discussing the culture here and important "dos and don'ts". This young girl quite abruptly said, "Teacher, the women here aren't free. This is a very serious problem." I asked the girls to discuss this for a few moments, and then we went back to our lesson.

A couple of weeks later this girl came to visit me in my home. Thrilled by her visit, I almost spilled the juice as I carried it to her on a tray. She laughed and laughed at my attempts to serve her in a culturally appropriate manner. During that visit we talked about her hopes and dreams, her family, the death of her father, and how I'm getting along here. The end of the visit came all too soon, and I asked her if she remembered that day in class when we spoke of women and freedom. She did. That afternoon I gave her a picture of a bird singing through a barred cage. The lyrics of the bird's song? "And you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free."

I've gone to visit her family a couple of times, and each time has been filled with laughter and questions and lots of food. They're fun to be around, and spending time with them reminds me of what being in a home with a family is like. It's nice. One time I played chess with her brother (and failed, miserably). Another time her sister presented me with an interestingly wrapped gift that turned out to be a stuffed dolphin keychain. Precious.

So tonight she called me and asked if I had some time to talk. She admitted that she needed someone to listen to her. Her grandmother died a couple of weeks ago, and she was feeling sad and a bit overwhelmed. She lost her father at a young age and is worried about her mother who will now be alone in the home. It seems as if her siblings often lean on her for help and encouragement. This is her last year of school, and she's working hard to receive high grades. Her dream is to be a dentist. As a 17 year old, she's having a difficult time, and I can totally understand that. At one point in the conversation she said, "Teacher, I trust you. You're a good friend. Thank you for listening to me."

I was more than happy to sit and listen to her process her troubles. I offered to pray for her, and I could hear her surprise through the phone. She half-laughed/half-gasped and nervously replied, "Thank you, Teacher. Thank you so much. I pray for you, too; for your safety in my city." She didn't get it - I wanted to pray for her then because I believe that Jesus cares about her family and how she's feeling overwhelmed. After a few more minutes we got off the phone, but only after I made her promise that she'd try to visit soon.

I'm thankful that she called. I long for this girl to know her Creator. To know the joy that comes from being secure in His love. I'm glad she wanted to talk to me, but I long for her to know that when she prays, God really listens and responds. What will it take for the veil to be lifted?