Six months into the journey the idea of planning ahead meant little and structured events, not being so structured, were still slowly being burned out of the sisters. A long time before this warm Monday morning they learned “glitches” would inevitably be a part of every day life in the Sandbox and that flexibility was essential. May would look back on this day, thankful there are no glitches in the Father’s perfect interruptions in her plans and with a heart a little more willing to be flexible.
When the sister’s plans changed that morning and they decided to visit their friend, Shatra, at her university, they were slightly annoyed but not surprised. Upon their arrival she requested they accompany her to her classroom. Hesitantly, the sisters followed Shatra into her classroom where they were greeted by her professor and twenty girls whose colorful head coverings, pressed firmly into their foreheads, would later leave slight indentations just below the brow of their hairline. After the professor’s amiable inquiry had passed, the sisters sat comfortably in the back of the classroom only slightly interested in the days’ lessen.
They soon found they were not there for mere cordial greetings and superficial attentiveness to the lesson at hand. The three white girls had been the objects of show that day. The professor requested they sit at the front of the room and share their lives with his students. Red and McCaine both shared about their families and about asking the Father where they should go to help people. May was the last of the sisters to go to the front and she was thankful for Red and McCaine’s conversations that opened the door for her to share.
Ironically, May did not like being with large groups of people and she loathed speaking in front of more then about three sets of eyes. In college she conveniently needed to use the restroom right before it was her turn to read a paragraph out-loud in class. When she was Student Government Union, President, she usually made the Vice President do most of the talking at the senate meetings besides saying “in favor of” and “opposed to” for her anxiousness and nervousness held her back from getting words out. As she sat and listened to what the sisters said she became anxious in the opposite way. She was anxious for them to finish so she could have her chance to share.
May had been holding her breath for one hundred seventy six days, the amount of time that had passed before she had the opportunity to say His name out loud. It seemed as though someone had placed their hands over her mouth and she could not get air in or out. She had slowly been suffocating and the only oxygen that came in was little gasps of air from hearing friend’s accounts of their opportunities. She felt frantic in the moment, trying to wait patiently for the sisters to finish sharing their stories, nervous the class would end before she could get up there and say his name aloud to these souls.
Each time she gave money to the beggar children and widowed women she declared to them, “G loves you and he has a good plan for your life,” but she always wondered who “G” was to them. This day May declared to the women that JC gave her hope, that JC gave her life meaning and that JC put it on her heart to come to this land and to love these people, their people. As she shared the Father’s 2000 year old gift with the young women in front of her she realized the gift she was receiving in the moment and she was able to breathe again.
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