I wish I knew her name

My last day in Basov, Romania, I went for a short walk and to my surprise I encountered Jesus in the most unexpected way. I was by myself and had an hour to kill before we had our next meeting. I took off in the direction of an open-air produce market I had discovered our first day here in Brasov. I wove myself through some side streets mentally retracing my steps and hoping I’d eventually find the market. I kept meeting people carrying large plastic bags overflowing with carrots, onions, greens, lettuce, fruits and tons of fresh flowers so I knew I was going the right direction. Within a few more minutes I found the market. It was packed, I guess because it’s Sunday. Hundreds of people were casually mingling through the market. I came upon this huge stand of freshly baked bread in huge loaves the size of watermelons. For no apparent reason at all, I decided I needed one of these loaves of bread. Not at all certain what I would do with it, I paid the lady 3 Lei, about $1. My bread in tote, I continued meandering through the market. I came upon a nice gentleman selling fresh cherries who insisted I sample some. He filled my hand with delicious cherries and I stood there for a few minutes enjoying them, affirming him at how tasty they were. I turned the corner to find another bread table full of all kinds of interesting croissants and pastry like creations. Again, I found myself purchasing some more bread, not sure why.  I pointed to some mini croissant things and gave the lady 2 Lei, about 60 cents. With that she filled a small sack with about 10 croissants. I was pleased with this purchase and continued on my way…weaving through the crowds of Sunday shoppers. 

After awhile I’d had my feel of the market and decided to head back towards our meeting place. I left the market area, dodging a few cars in the parking lot. At the edge of the parking area, this old woman caught my eye. She was sitting on the ground wearing a large coat and a long skirt. She had a scarf over her head and it was pulled down almost covering the dark glasses she had on. One hand was covered with a wool glove and held a beat up plastic cup that held a few coins. The other hand was on her lap, swollen and covered in sores and scabs. It didn’t appear that she had much use of this left hand. She sat hunched over staring at the ground. It was obvious she didn’t have any teeth as she sat there chewing her gums. 

What happened over the next half hour I still can’t fully explain to myself, but somehow I encountered God in such a real and powerful way. Immediately upon seeing this woman, I became aware of all this bread I was carrying, and I heard God say, “go sit with her and share this meal with her.” Before my mind could even argue or come up with an excuse not to, I was squatting down to join her on the warm concrete. Her head, still glued to the ground, shifted over to acknowledge my presence. I took a few of the croissants out of the bag and placed them in her hand. She nodded as if to say thank you, then she waited. I pulled out one for myself and when she saw me partaking, she quickly followed suit. So there we were…sitting on the ground eating some really tasty croissants. Again, I heard God assure me “just sit with her.” So I sat. Lots of people were passing by, each one giving us a strange look. 

My heart broke for this woman. Who is she? What’s her name? What’s her story? I began praying for her, then speaking truth over her. You are the beloved. You are loved by God. He cherishes your heart. I knew she couldn’t understand a word I spoke, but I felt like I was just supposed to affirm who God says she is. I don’t know how this works, but perhaps her heart could understand despite the language barrier. I continued to pray…that God would be her provider..that He would heal her body…that He would send people to love her and cherish her heart like He does. A few times she would turn towards me, with her head down, and say in a hushed tone “no English.” I affirmed that it was ok and just continued to sit with this sweet woman. 

Within 10 minutes or so a little girl around the age of 9 approached us and said something in Romanian. I didn’t understand her words, but I knew she was asking for either food or money. Her clothes were torn and dirty. Her sandals were barely held together. I motioned for her to have a seat as I handed her the remainder of the croissants in the bag. She joined us for a few minutes while she ate them, then she was on her way.

As I continued to pray and speak words of life over this lady, she kept saying, “no English.” So I decided to just sit with her and silently pray for her to ease any angst she had about not being about to communicate with me. Then God said something crazy. He said “worship Me by singing as you sit here with her.” What?! I thought, surely not. But random worship songs would just come to mind and I began to sing them in hushed tones as we sat there together. As you may know, this is so not-characteristic of me! Don’t get me wrong, I love to worship. But I don’t do solos…and plus, I’m sitting on the street in Romania with some random stranger that I can’t communicate with.  But for some reason none of that mattered in that moment. I was just sitting there worshipping the Lord in the presence of this sweet little old lady. At one point she reached over with her swollen injured hand and placed it on my forearm. I looked over to see her rocking back and forth, chewing her gums and now smiling for the first time. 

Soon it was time for me to go. I opened the bag with the watermelon sized bread in it and placed it on her lap. I put my hand on her shoulder and told her that there’s a real God who cares for her and loves her so much. Her eyes and mine finally met. Her eyes filled with tears and she began to weep. Her frail body shook as she cried. People passing by were giving us some strange looks by this time. I sat back down next to her and just rubbed her back as I prayed that God would watch over her, provide for her, and comfort her. I left her with the few remaining bills in my pocket and tears in my eyes. As I walked away I couldn’t fight it any longer and tears streamed down my face. It was the most incredible feeling. I felt like I’d just spent a half hour with Jesus as I sat with this old lady. She has no clue how much she blessed me. She allowed me to stop, sit down, and hear God’s heartbeat for a moment. It wasn’t about some feeling of satisfaction because I gave away some bread and a few bucks. It was the gift of time that was spent just sitting together. I believe this is a glimpse of the Kingdom. In our hearts, in a way I can’t begin to understand, there was an exchange that occurred – I believe we each saw Jesus in each other.  I thank God for allowing me to spend time with him and this little old lady. He’s full of surprises, and He’s just waiting for me to take more time to sit and enjoy Him.